


Something Nice Back Home

by lookninjas



Series: The Man Behind the Curtain (Ben!verse) [11]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:24:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookninjas/pseuds/lookninjas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine is home from Arizona, and Kurt is worried about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Nice Back Home

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the [ben!verse](http://lookninjas.livejournal.com/tag/ben!verse). This is follows [All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues](http://lookninjas.livejournal.com/137980.html) and [The Man Behind the Curtain](http://lookninjas.livejournal.com/139511.html). This fic has been sitting on my laptop for a long time, while I tried to figure out whether it needed more scenes or not; much thanks to [](http://sinkwriter.livejournal.com/profile)[sinkwriter](http://sinkwriter.livejournal.com/) for helping me figure out that no, actually, it doesn't. (Also, thanks to the other people on my [prompt post](http://lookninjas.livejournal.com/139554.html), for helping me get used to the idea of writing fics that aren't 9 million squidgillion words long. I'm pretty sure this wouldn't have felt so unfinished in the first place if I weren't so used to longfic now.)

Blaine is sitting on his front steps; Kurt sees him there as he pulls up to the house, a small, hunched figure in a purple t-shirt, staring down at something in his hands -- his phone, probably. And it's sweet, that Blaine is waiting for him; it's touching that he looks up as Kurt steers the Navigator into the Andersons' horseshoe drive, eyes wide and hopeful. But it's also a little worrying, because this isn't something that they usually do. Blaine has always been perfectly content to sit in his living room and watch the window for Kurt's car; if he's having a particularly bad day, he might not even do that, might just hole up in his father's study and wait for Kurt to come and find him. He doesn't sit on the steps and wait. Even on beautiful days (and today is beautiful), he never does that.

And maybe Kurt is overreacting a little bit. Maybe he's just nervous because Blaine's spent the last four days in Arizona, with no communication except for occasional strings of cryptic (and deeply worrying) text messages. But still. Something's going on. He can tell by the way Blaine stands up to meet him, brushing his hands off on his jeans, like he's nervous about something. He can tell by the almost painful relief on Blaine's face when they get close enough to really see each other; he can tell by the way Blaine tries to speak, but only says "Kurt," like _hello_ is too hard right now.

And when he reaches out and pulls Blaine in, Blaine immediately collapses into him, clinging hard and burying his face in Kurt's shoulder, and yes, something is _seriously_ wrong. Kurt wishes, briefly, that he could just grab Blaine and take him away somewhere. It doesn't really matter where, anywhere where they could be alone, where they could talk. But he said he would wait; he said they would talk when Blaine was ready, and he's not about to go back on that now. So he doesn't drag Blaine back to the car and drive off with him; he just holds him up and whispers, "I'm here, Blaine. I'm right here."

"I know," Blaine says, his voice hushed and maybe a little choked. "I know. Just... _Kurt_." He sounds so wounded, and Kurt isn't sure how four days spent visiting the grandparents in Arizona can make Blaine act and sound like he's just come back from a war, but then, his family's a little different from Blaine's, and sometimes he is painfully reminded of that fact.

"I'm glad you're home," Kurt says, because it's kind of the only thing he can think to say.

Blaine huffs out a laugh into Kurt's shoulder, his fingers clutching at Kurt's thin shirt. "Yeah," he says, and he still sounds shaky, but maybe it's better right now. "Yeah, me too." He finally peels himself away, scrubbing at his face with both hands. "Sorry. Sorry, I just... It's been a _long_ few days. I mean, it wasn't; it was just... but it..."

Kurt reaches out, letting his fingertips graze against Blaine's bare elbow; he's not going to pull him back in or anything, but he wants to maintain some sort of contact. Blaine's a toucher -- he likes brushing shoulders and nudging knees and pressing foreheads together, and he always seems to relax a little bit when Kurt's hands settle on him. Kurt's not above using that to his advantage when he needs to. "I know what you meant," he says, ducking his head to try to catch Blaine's gaze. It takes Blaine a moment to meet Kurt's eyes; there's something hesitant in his expression, a little bit embarrassed and shy, but also... Kurt's not really sure what. He feels like something's shifted, but he can't tell what, or whether it's good or bad. And he's not going to find out any time soon, so there's no point in thinking about it too much. "But. We'll talk about that later. Right?"

"Actually..." Blaine lets out a long, slow breath, and just like that, Kurt's worrying starts to kick into overdrive. Again. "Actually, I kind of..." Nervous, clutching fingers reach out for Kurt's hand; Blaine's palm is sweating lightly, and there's nothing Kurt can do but squeeze back, trying to project some kind of reassurance. "Can we sit?" Blaine asks, angling his head towards the steps. "There's something... It's not about us, or anything, or even really about me, it's just something... something you should know."

"Of course," Kurt says, and tries to smile, keeps his chin up and his eyes steadily locked on Blaine even when Blaine ducks his head and turns away, leading Kurt over to the steps. His grip on Kurt is tight, maybe even a little bit desperate, and as soon as they're sitting down, Kurt pulls Blaine's hand into his lap and covers it with both of his. It's a little more than he'd usually do, but Blaine obviously needs this, and Kurt's not at all prepared to deny him. Even if Blaine isn't asking in the strictest sense of the word.

"So my grandpa," Blaine says, and then he stops, staring helplessly at the cement between his feet, like he'll find a script written there, something to teach him what to say. Kurt holds his hand, waits for him, trying to be patient. "He..." Blaine swallows hard, then takes a deep breath and straightens up, like the Dalton blazer has suddenly been slipped onto his shoulders. Kurt can almost hear Blaine psyching himself up, telling himself, _courage_. He squeezes Blaine's hand. "My grandpa's gonna die," Blaine says, the words coming out of him in a rush. "Not like... not like 'everyone dies,' like that, but... soon. We don't know when, but. Soon."

"Oh," Kurt whispers, and he was not expecting that. He was not expecting that at all. "Blaine, I... I'm so sorry. Have you known for a while, or did you just --"

"No." Blaine's voice is soft, a little tired; that initial confession must have taken a lot out of him, but then some things get harder when you say them out loud. Kurt knows all about that. "No, we just found out. And it's not just... It's not just that my grandpa's sick, Kurt, and I don't want to... I can't explain it right now." Kurt squeezes Blaine's hand again, because he doesn't _really_ understand, but he's not going to push him either. "I just can't. But it's more than that. He is sick, but that's not..."

Kurt leans into Blaine for just a second, nudging him with his shoulder. "It's okay, Blaine," he says. "You don't have to tell me now. I can wait."

Blaine nods, swallowing again. "But it's really hard," he says. "For my dad, I mean. I mean, it's sad for me, too, because that's my grandfather and I _do_... I mean I do care what happens to him, even if he's not always that... But it's different for my dad. Because that's his _father_ , Kurt. And even if they're not close, exactly... I mean, you can't _not_ love your father. Because you just... you just _do_."

"I know," Kurt says, because he does know, even if he's sort of surprised that Blaine is the one to say it. Because there have been resentments between Blaine and his father, confusions and misunderstandings; and on certain, particularly bad days, Blaine has come close to saying the exact opposite. That he doesn't _have_ to love his father just because it's his father. And to an extent, Kurt would agree with that, too. Blaine doesn't love his father just because that's his father. He loves him because he's _Blaine_ , and he doesn't know how not to love people.

And if he gets that from his father, well, that's not really all that surprising.

"My Aunt Katie says it's like this," Blaine says, scooting a little bit closer, his shoulder tipping into Kurt's. "She says it's like... my grandfather's always been trying to push my dad away. For as long as he's been alive, my grandpa's been... And my dad just keeps coming back. Because he can't give up; he can't just let it go. Except..." Blaine wipes at his eyes with his free hand, and Kurt caves in, draping an arm around him and tugging him close. "He can't, anymore. Because there's not going to be a next time, or anything. It's just... it's just over."

Kurt takes a deep breath, dragging it in slowly, letting out even slower. "Oh, Blaine," he sighs.

"And I know my dad's not perfect; and I know that him and me, we've had... It's not always easy, like it is with you and your dad. Not that that's easy, either; I don't mean --"

"I understand, Blaine," Kurt says, quietly, and thinks once again that he really should go into the whole trucker-flannel-and-making-out-with-Brittany phase so Blaine understands just how _hard_ things have been with him and his dad. How he was, not too long ago, terrified that he'd ruin everything by coming out. Terrified of losing the most important person in his life. But not today. Today it would seem... competitive, and this is not the time for that.

Blaine sighs and tips his head down into Kurt's shoulder. "But then I look at my dad, and _his_ dad, and the way they are with each other, and... I mean, it's not like he had the best example, you know? He's doing what he can. And he's really... Like, even with this trip, and with everything going on, he still took the time to... He takes care of me, Kurt. And right now, I just need to..."

Kurt nods, pulling Blaine closer. "Right now, you need to take care of him," he finishes. "Which is fine, and I... I completely understand. But I'd like to help. If you'll let me."

Blaine doesn't answer in words, not really; he just shifts closer, pressed up against Kurt from hip to shoulder, their knees knocking together. When Kurt closes his eyes, he smells bergamot and lemon verbena, and he smiles. Because sometimes it's small things like this, that Blaine went out and bought the shampoo that Kurt recommended, that he's wearing the purple shirt that Kurt likes to see him in. And then sometimes it's bigger things -- the sharp sympathy that Blaine's feeling for his father right now, the stubborn loyalty of it all. Blaine just _cares_ , with every molecule in his body, and although Kurt's still not always sure what he should make of Blaine's father and their relationship to each other, he's pretty sure Mr. Anderson must have done something right if he wound up with a son like Blaine.

"My aunt sent me those pictures," Blaine says, after a few moments. "Like I was telling you, you know, because we don't have a lot of pictures here, so. And there's one I wanted to..." He shifts to dig his phone out of his pocket (knocking into Kurt, and Kurt laughs and lets his arm slip lower, draping it around Blaine's waist to steady them both). "Give me a second; there's kind of a lot, but..." He scrolls through pictures quickly, sweeping his thumb over the screen a few times until he finds what he's looking for. "Here."

Kurt shifts closer, resting his chin on Blaine's shoulder, and reaches out to tilt Blaine's hand until the phone is at a good angle, one where they can both see the picture without glare. "Is that..." The boy in the picture is skinny and small, with fine, straight hair and round glasses that make him look owlish and serious and maybe a little bit sad; Kurt didn't really need to ask who he was, because it's obvious. But he thinks maybe Blaine needs to tell him.

Blaine nods, letting his head tip down against Kurt's, the two of them twining together, like they could somehow get close enough to see the picture exactly the same way. "I think Dad was maybe... thirteen when that picture was taken? Or fourteen, maybe. And that's Grandpa Richard with him. My great-grandfather." His fingertips brush over the image -- the skinny boy, the tall man, the car between them, headlights high and chrome grill flashing beneath it. "And that's Grandpa's Bel Air. They used to work on it together. All the time."

Blaine stares down at the picture for a little bit longer, like he's trying to memorize it, trying to bring it to life, and Kurt thinks he's starting to understand, a little bit. "He never told you," Kurt says, watching Blaine's face.

"He doesn't actually talk much about... growing up and everything," Blaine explains. He sighs. "I guess I don't blame him; my grandparents are kind of..." He shakes his head, and doesn't finish his thought. Not that Kurt was really expecting him to. "My dad learned how to drive in that car," he adds, after a little bit. "Grandpa Richard had this farm -- it's still in the family, actually. No one lives there right now, but... Anyway. There's some two-tracks and dirt roads and stuff out that way, and Grandpa Richard used to take Dad out and let him drive around out there. No traffic or anything. It was safer." Blaine's smile is soft, sort of nostalgic and fond. "My dad had to take me out to the mall when it was closed, so I could drive around the parking lot."

"My dad took me to the cemetary," Kurt says, and laughs at the startled look on Blaine's face. "What? You can fit a car down the walkways, and there's never anyone around unless there's a funeral. It was a good place to practice, as long as we weren't in the truck."

Blaine looks at Kurt for a little while, still just blinking, then he laughs and kisses Kurt on the cheek. "Your family's _weird_ ," he sighs, affectionate and warm, and shifts to tuck his phone into his pocket.

"So's yours," Kurt says, then wishes he hadn't, because Blaine's face goes momentarily blank. Then he smiles, but it's a little too bright, a little too brave, and Kurt has to tug him closer and add, "Not in a bad way, though. At least not the ones I've met."

After a second, Blaine's expression softens, stops looking so forced. "I wish you could meet my Aunt Katie," he says, a little mournfully. "I mean, she might be coming back to Ohio, but not until Grandpa..." Blaine swallows hard. "And then there's Grandma to think about, and I don't know what she's going to do yet, so if Katie does come back, it probably won't be until right around graduation. Maybe even longer than that."

Kurt shrugs. "It's okay," he says. "I'm sure she'll be worth the wait." Because they _have_ talked about this, at least a little bit, and Kurt has every intention of staying in Blaine's life until graduation, and even after that. And judging by the way Blaine's expression brightens, the way his cheeks turn a little pink and he has to stare at his hands before looking back over at Kurt, he doesn't really mind the thought of it.

"I guess she might be taking over the farm," Blaine says, reaching out to settle his hand on Kurt's knee, his thumb tracing patterns over the kneecap, and Kurt shivers a little, but in a good way. He likes this, that they're comfortable enough for this. "When everything's over. I hope she does. I mean, Dad and I still go out there sometimes, to check up on everything, but it's not the same, you know? No one lives there, and it's just... it's weird."

"We'll visit her," Kurt suggests. "I want to see this farm. And your great-grandfather's car. And all the rest of it."

Blaine frowns at nothing, looking a little puzzled. "Actually, the car's not there anymore," he says, slowly. "At least I don't think it is. I think I would have remembered it, if it was. But I never saw it until Grandma showed me those pictures. So I don't know what happened to it. But it's weird, isn't it? You'd think... I mean, if Grandpa Richard had it that long, he'd have kept it in good shape. Grandma said they were always working on it. So it shouldn't have died or anything. Should it?"

Kurt can't do anything but shake his head. "I don't know," he says. "Maybe something happened to it, like it blew a rod and it did a lot of damage to the engine. Or there was an accident. Or... I mean, when your great-grandfather died, maybe it got sold or something. Not that I think your dad would, because he wouldn't, but if he didn't get the car, if someone else did, then maybe..."

"Maybe," Blaine says, still frowning. Then he sighs one last time and slips free of Kurt's hold, standing up. "Come on," he says, extending a hand to Kurt. "My dad's been looking at these papers all day -- he got them from Grandpa. I'm pretty sure it's... you know. Grandpa's will, and the estate stuff and everything."

Kurt slips his hand into Blaine's; he doesn't need help getting to his feet, but he'll never turn down a chance to hold hands with his boyfriend. "Then let's go distract him," he says. When Blaine smiles at him, he looks a little happier, happy enough to make Kurt smile back.

Not that he's not still worried, of course. He's still worried, and probably will be so for some time. But still, Blaine's smiling, and that's enough for now.


End file.
